Glory and Gore
by gxnseys
Summary: Jason Grace has lived and fought as a gladiator for a year after being arrested for protecting his mother and sister from Roman soldiers. He's kept a secret for years, but when Percy Jackson is thrown into the arena, light is shed on Jason and he is roped into a plan for escape involving sorcery, scandals, princesses, and revealing godly secrets
1. Prologue

**(most of) the characters in this story belong to Rick Riordan but the plot belongs to me ! **

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Jason prepared himself for what he knew would be carnage.

The cell they kept him in reeked of fear and dread, the panic of the other men that had been held in it evident in the stench of terror that clung to the walls. Jason shook his hands out in front of him, puffing up his cheeks, the chanting crowd outside wracking his nerves more than they already were. He strode over to the other side of the waiting cell and picked up his spear, enjoying the familiar feeling of it's weight in his hands but not the heavy guilt that rested on it's gold tip.

His breathing echoed around the damp chamber as he stared at the sharp point of his spear and recounted the faces of the one, two, three - fifty people murdered by his hand. He'd slaughtered them while a crowd of thousands watched, their eyes widening and pulses racing with a sick thrill as blood was spilled on the dirt of the Colosseum.

Jason knew that the audience loved him, he'd survived for so long, beat so many impossible odds, but he was scared for his life today. They -whoever _they_ was that decided these things - had given him a large brass shield. The front was emblazoned with the face of a lion roaring, it's teeth bared in a display of fury.

They usually gave him a spear, or a sword, sometimes a club. Sometimes nothing at all. But today they had donated him a shield, which meant that he was going to need to defend himself.

Jason went and sat by the door, his footsteps loud in the large empty space. The waiting area was sizeable and dank, the low ceilings designed to confuse gladiators when they stepped out into the open-top arena, providing too much light where there used to be little. Everything here was made to be unnerving and complicated, to make you feel like you were going insane. Jason shuddered.

Suddenly feeling uneasy being sedentary, he pulled his gold coin out of his pocket and flicked it up in the air, waiting and remembering what his sister had told him a year ago, as she pressed it into his palm.

_Stay strong, Jason, they mean to break you. Don't give them that satisfaction._

Thalia's blue eyes still burned in his mind to this day, as well as the memory of the guards shoving her away from him, her black hair that had been once long cut short like a boy's. She had meant to run away and join a hunting party, but Jason never knew if she got that far.

"Jason?"

He stood quickly, slipping the coin back into his pocket, peaking through the peep hole in the wooden door, knowing who it was and how little time they had.

"Frank, you risk too much to be here right now. You are already on probation from last time, don't not remember?" Jason warned.

Jason worried Frank would be caught trying to help him one day, slipping him bread or giving him extra, concealable weapons.

"I must be quick but, Jason, you've got to know one of your opponents will be difficult to conquer. It's going to be a double-victor match. Ally with him. You won't have to try and oppose him" Frank advised, his voice rapid and rushed, but Jason listened carefully, absorbing every word.

"What makes him different from the rest?" Jason asked, ear pressed to the door.

"He claims to be a son of Neptune. Well..." Frank paused, and Jason banged his fist on the door.

"Please, we have so little time" Jason managed, the name of the sea God striking a terror through his spine.

"I, I'm sorry. The man says, well, he says _Poseidon_, which makes him a Greek. He is clearly insane, do _not_ try to kill him. They needed five guards to get him into his chambers" Frank informed Jason with a shaky, infirm voice.

_Son of Poseidon. A demigod. Or so he claims._ Jason's heart leapt in his chest at the possibility that he was no longer alone.

"I must go" Frank said. "Good luck, friend." He then disappeared down the stone hall in a flash of gold armour and red plumage.

Jason nearly ran to the gates in trepidation, his brass shield strapped to his arm and his spear gripped tightly in his right hand, the light pouring in from the arena blindly bright.

_A demigod_. He wasn't crazy like they said. He wasn't insane.

Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting, the gates of his cell lifted with a scraping clamour, and Jason jogged out into the arena.

He was greeted with the cheering of a thousand people, their voices and stamping feet like thunder. It took Jason a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the light of the midday sun beating down from the sky, like Helios himself had stopped his chariot mid flight to watch.

Two other barriers opened parallel to Jason, both of them containing burly men with deep scars and horrible red faces, their missing teeth reminders that they were veterans of the arena. None of them were demigods, though, _that_ much Jason knew for sure. He waited eagerly for the last gate to open, palms becoming sweaty and armour almost weighing down his frantic heart.

The gate lifted with an almighty clank and into the dazzling sun stepped a teenage boy no older than Jason. He wore a greek helmet, the horse hair plume cut off in a show of rude humour. They'd made fun of the boy, mocking him by giving him wrecked Greek armour, its entirety dented-in and smashed, riddled with holes and rust. Useless celestial bronze that looked like it should have fallen apart when he put it on. They'd gone that bit further by giving him a trident and a weighted net, the weapons of Poseidon, which was humiliating.

The assemblage of people booed when he stepped into the light, shaking their fists at the Greek boy as if he was garbage. They would never like him, they would never root for him the way they did for Jason. If only they knew.

"_LET THE GAME BEGIN_" the announcer called out, resonating in Jason's skull as the usual words that could be the last he'd ever hear.

Jason charged immediately towards one of the large men, brandishing his spear and yelling the entire way, baring his teeth like the lion on his shield.

The man stabbed his sword forward, but at the last moment Jason dug the tip of his spear into the dirt and vaulted himself over the top of him before the man had known what had happened. As the he spun around to face Jason behind him, Jason threw his spear so hard it hit his opponent directly in the stomach and sent him flying backwards.

"_Volo autem vos fortuna._" Jason murmured over the roar of the crowd, pulling out his spear from the shaking man's gut. "_Ubi vos terminus sursum._" _I wish you good luck where you end up. _

The audience were pleased he'd taken the large man down so easily, although he knew they'd want him to make the other one's death last longer so they had more to watch. So, Jason turned, fully intending to charge the man and fight him to the death, when he found he'd been beaten to it.

The self-claimed demigod was taking on the other man.

The Greek boy fought amazingly, unimpeded by his destroyed armour. This was to Jason's utter surprise, and apparently the crowd's as well. But this confusion had them cheering louder than ever, waving their hands in the air and screaming discouragements at the chaotic outsider.

The boy had a different technique, slashing and rolling instead of direct fighting. Jason guessed it shouldn't be that surprising, under all the unnecessary, embarrassing armour, he looked like he had the body of a well trained soldier. Lean and tall, built for speed and agility.

The boy parried a blow with such force it knocked off his helmet, revealing a head of wavy black hair. Jason, finally struck to his senses, ran to the fight, ready to come to the Greek's aid and help him take down his opponent.

Then, to Jason's bewilderment, the boy lunged forward and rammed the large man through the throat with the trident.

Jason froze in shock, the abrupt blow surprising him.

The black-haired boy stabbed the man in the jugular, letting him stand and choke on his own blood and the rusty metal of the trident until finally, he jerked right and slashed his opponent's throat wide open. It was horrifying to behold and although he was a Greek criminal, the crowd cheered crazily in favour of him, going insane with the sight of pure bloodshed.

Jason's nostrils flared with disgust at the red that stained the sand of the Colosseum, too much to just be a wound.

The other boy's chest and shoulders heaved with laboured breaths, and he dropped the trident and net, collapsing to the ground. Jason sprinted over, getting down on his knees beside him. The cheering died down when the people realised he wasn't going in to kill the traitor.

"You shouldn't have won. Stay low and don't draw attention to yourself" Jason instructed in a low voice, his eyes fixed on the dead body, pale from lack of blood. The dead man's eyes watched their conversation, his slashed throat nauseating. Jason tore his eyes away, instead fixing them on the gladiator beside him. He turned when Jason did, his eyes green, narrowed, and just like waves during a hurricane, deadly and unforgiving.

"I'll keep mine and you keep yours, son of Jupiter" he snarled, standing and stalking away.

[][][]

Later, when Jason and the boy were crowned with matching laurel wreaths, he learned his name. Perseus Jackson, the son of Poseidon, the boy from his childhood.

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**Hi guys this was a prologue so its pretty short! The other chapters will be longer**

**I hope you enjoyed it, and also if you liked it please don't forget to leave a review **

**((also i just wanna say before the story continues all the information i get on Gladiators and Ancient Rome + Greece i get off the internet so if any of it is inaccurate you can let me know _but_ i may not be able to change it for reasons involving the plot of the story)) **

**Have a good day/night, thankyou for reading ! (¬‿¬) **


	2. I

**thankyou so much for reading the last chapter ! hope you enjoy this one **

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Jason didn't want to dream at night.

He was always plagued with the same horrific nightmares, bombarded by the same flashbacks, but he couldn't control it. _He had to sleep_.

Tonight he dreamt he stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking a vast ocean, hot wind whipping at his face and ruffling his short hair. He wore a laurel wreath and saw the dark purple storm clouds roll in, lightening forking out to sea and rapidly approaching where he stood.

Jason watched, frozen, as dream-him, no older than 6 and being chased by his older sister Thalia, ran towards the cliff at full speed, looking back over his shoulder and not watching where he was going. Seeing Thalia, even in a dream, made Jason's heart swell under his ribs. He tried to yell out to dream-him, who was running ever-closer to the point of the cliff, but found he had no voice.

"Jason!" Thalia screamed, but it was too late, dream-Jason toppled over the edge.

Thalia dropped to her knees and wailed, clutching her hair and shrieking, until Jason flew back over the lip of the cliff and back onto the grass as though someone had caught him and thrown him back up. The little boy stood shocked for a second, wobbling on his feet before smiling widely and throwing his thin arms in the air.

"I flew!" He exclaimed proudly as his older sister rushed forward and cradled him to her body. "Like a bird!"

Then the scene rippled like a hand dipped in water, and Jason was sitting at the head of a long banquet table. The guests were the men he'd killed in the arena, sitting in what they died in, blood running down their temples or gaping wounds in their stomachs. They sat and stared at the food longingly, wanting to eat the food of the living, but knowing that that was not possible.

Jason stood with a chalice of blood in his hands and all the dead men looked to him.

"I apologise" he said, and they lifted their cups to him.

"We forgive you, son of Jupiter" they said in unison, creating a chorus of dead, croaking voices.

Jason awoke on his hard bed in a cold sweat. He sat panting for several moments, collecting his wits and staring at his tattooed hands; something the people of Rome could identify him by if he ever escaped. He knew the dreams were penance for what he had done, a way of coping with the lives he'd taken.

It was the middle of the night, that much Jason could tell. Moonlight filtered in through his high cell window, and he was reminded of his family he had had to leave behind.

His mother and sister had called the moon Selene, but recently, he'd been retaught to call her Luna. Jason remembered vividly sitting in front of a fire, his head resting on the arm of the whicker chair his mother would sit and tell stories in. Thalia would whack at a wooden post she'd made with a knife or a stick, pretending they were fabulous weapons forged by Cyclopes under the sea while their mother told them the stories of Odysseus, Heracles, and all of the other heroes that had played parts in history. His mother would stroke his hair, close her eyes and smile, her beautiful face lit up by the warm, crackling flames.

She'd told them Greek stories, and in the end, that was part of his downfall.

A knocking on the door interrupted his thoughts and he threw off his canvas blanket, standing promptly and resting his hand instinctively on his hip where he usually kept his sword. The only light in the room came from the filtered moon, bathing his small cell in a soft, powdery light.

The door unlocked despite Jason failure to answer it, and Frank stepped in, shutting the door behind him, careful not to make a noise.

"Jason, I have news" he said, not bothered by formal greetings, stepping forward and taking off his helmet.

Frank had taken immediate pity on him when they had met, Jason remembered vividly. He had been thin, young, and fragile from time in jail when they saw each other first, and Frank was a new recruit into the army, still soft from lack of experience.

They were even around the same age, and had struck up a strange friendship. Jason always felt guilty, because he had nothing to offer the relationship between the two, whereas Frank always had new information that would help him, or an extra blanket on a cold night. All Jason could do was try to make sure Frank's efforts didn't go go waste by not dying.

"What news? Does it have anything to do with Perseus Jackson?" Jason inquired eagerly, rubbing the sleep out of his heavy eyes.

"No, sadly. But, I thought you should know there's going to be a special guest at the next fight. A princess. She holds no royal power, but she's fabled to one of the most beautiful girls in Rome" Frank gushed, his ears turning pink. "Almost as beautiful as Venus herself, and _twice_ as beautiful as Helen of Troy."

"_And?_" Jason asked, raising his eyebrows. As much as exceptionally beautiful Princesses appealed to him, he had given up the luxury of romance a year ago, along with everything else, for that matter.

"The winner becomes her husband" Frank said, pausing for dramatic effect.

Noticing Jason didn't seem too enthusiastic, Frank raised his eyebrows and continued, hands out in front of him.

"The winner doesn't become king because there are sons lined up for the crown, but he _does_ get to go live in a beautiful country house with the princess, waited on hand and foot by servants. He gets a full pardon for his crimes and is excused from the Colosseum for_ever._ Jason, _this could be your way out!_" Frank sounded so excited for Jason, but he couldn't help but see the flaws in the plan.

"Why isn't she married already? Why give her away as a prize? Did she have any say in the matter, do you think?" He asked, sitting on his bed and looking up at Frank, elbows on knees and his hands hanging between his legs. As low on his list of interests a princess was, a forced marriage to one was even lower.

Frank stood over him, huge as always and looking the part of a classic Roman soldier. His upper arms rippled with corded muscle, buzz cut black hair accentuating the sharp, handsome lines on his face, and the fact he carried a bow and arrow with him at all times did nothing to help steady a nervous heart. His gold armour was just another thing that made people fear him. What was so strange then, to Jason, was how gentle and kind he was.

Frank spluttered, running his fingers through his hair, his mouth opening and closing without noise.

"T-this could be your way out!" Frank repeated, putting his hands on the back of his neck, eyes wide.

"I would rather earn my way out than win it from some princess" Jason muttered, laying back on his bed and picking at a loose thread on his blanket.

Frank yanked the blanket off Jason, his lacklustre angering him.

"You don't need to earn your way out of something you don't belong in" he snapped, voice low.

"I do belong here. I violated the rules of Rome. I am a criminal and am being punished like one" Jason argued. They'd been through this a thousand times.

Jason was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and he did the wrong thing when he should have done nothing at all. Mostly he did it to save Thalia, but he didn't like to think about it. It did no good to dwell on mistakes when you lived in a place with no happiness.

"Jason, you protected your ill mother and sister, and got taken to jail for hurting a soldier in the process. The soldier wrongfully accused your sister, you're not the one to blame. _He_ should be fighting for his life right now, not you" Frank urged, trying to coax Jason into fighting for the Princess's prize.

_Ill_, Jason thought ruefully, cracking his knuckles. He had told everyone that Thalia and his mother were ill, driven insane by a temporary fever. But the guard had seen it, he'd seen what Thalia had done and that man knew the truth.

"You're right" Jason said, swallowing hard. "But that doesn't mean I want to marry a princess."

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Breakfast was a sombre affair in the gladiator barracks for the criminals. The volunteers were given special treatment and a high protein meal that included good meats and cereals. But for the people forced to be there, like Jason, they were given a small amount of leftover lean meat and a single piece of bread. After a portion of that already small meal was sacrificed in a fire to the Gods and Goddesses, there wasn't ever much left. Jason often went hungry.

While Jason ate he watched Perseus Jackson, who was sitting several tables away, guards flanking either side of him and his hands shackled. Jason wasn't surprised he hadn't recognised him before, he looked very different since he had last seen him.

Perseus Jackson in his mind was a skinny boy with a sweep of black hair and big green eyes, his skin pale and undernourishment showing through his thin arms and legs, all knobby elbows and knees. _This_ Perseus Jackson, however, was the complete opposite. No longer skinny but leanly muscular, he looked as though he'd had a hard life. His skin was olive and scarred, the light pink showing out on the darkness of his tan prominently. He was a great deal taller and his eyes didn't seem so bright. He looked like a hard, broken person.

"I can eat by myself" Perseus insisted angrily, jerking his head away from the guard trying to feed him. He grabbed the spoon with his shackled hand and began swallowing the bland soup he had been given. It was disgusting and watery, and looked just like Jason remembered it tasting.

Perseus lifted his gaze and it fell instantly on Jason, cutting and baleful. He smiled at him, a frightening thing.

Jason looked away before he picked up his plate and changed tables. The guards didn't even look up when he went to move, and with shaking hands he sat down opposite the son of the sea god.

The shackled boy glared at Jason through his dark eyelashes, spoon gripped so tightly it started to splinter. A mug of water started to shake, and Jason reached over to hold it still.

"Perseus..." he began, clearing his throat. He wasn't completely sure what he wanted to say, but he supposed firstly an apology was in order. Jason had a lot of people he wanted to apologise to, but it had never occurred to him that the first person would be Perseus Jackson.

"Before we go on with this, could you please call me Percy?" he asked. It confused Jason that Perseus would want someone who he hated to call him by an affectionate nickname, but he nodded nevertheless.

"Wait," Percy said, holding up a finger to silence Jason as soon as he'd opened him mouth. He swivelled around on his bench and looked up at the guards.

"Can I have a minute alone?" Percy asked, and when the guards didn't move his head slacked to the side and he raised his confined hands to their faces.

"I'm already handcuffed, and _chained_ to the _table!_ All that I am asking for is ten minutes to be alone" he requested, rattling his shackles to emphasize the fact he wouldn't be escaping.

The guards looked at one another before finally coming to an agreement, nodding.

"You have two minutes" one finalised, and Percy sighed.

"You Romans are generous, aren't you?" He said as they walked away, before turning back around and facing Jason.

"Um, _Percy_, I wanted to say-" Jason began, but again, was interrupted.

"I want to apologise for how I came off yesterday. Probably a bit rude of me, I suppose, treating an old friend like that" Percy grinned. He took a sip from his cup of water and watched Jason from over the brim, eyes shining with facetious humour.

It was Jason's turn to glare now. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to let his anger wear down the way Thalia had taught him. It wasn't safe when Jason got angry, which was why he'd avoided it for his entire life. But despite all his practise, the room started to smell like a storm.

"I came to say sorry to you, Jackson" Jason grimaced. "Although it seems you've already made up your mind about me."

"No, I made up my mind about you when you gave me into the soldiers for being the same thing you are" Percy informed, the smug smile never leaving his face as he talked. Jason wanted to punch it off.

He flexed his fingers and blinked, visualising the anger rolling off of himself in clouds. He continued calmly.

"There was no other way-"

"How is it, being a demigod in here?" Percy butt in. "I bet you haven't told anyone. No, you couldn't have, could you? Because they all love you out there. Love it when you kill all those men. _Loved_ it when it looked like you were coming to kill me. Maybe, you should have."

Percy put down his eating utensil. "Why do they hate demigods so much, do you know?"

"No one knows about me, you can't...you can't tell them" Jason whispered urgently. He only had another year ahead of him and he would be out. Another year and he'd be free to walk the earth as his own man.

"Oh I won't tell anyone. I'm not a traitor like that" Percy assured, giving Jason a small nod.

His green eyes were bright again, like Jason remembered. Only not with the joys of being a child, or being happy, but with some sick kind of glee. Jason could only imagine what he was thinking. How happy he'd be now they were on the same level.

"They hate demigods because they're powerful" Jason answered, his head down.

"Ah ha! Because they're _powerful! _Now your speaking the truth, Grace" Percy laughed, leaning back in his seat a little more comfortably.

"So powerful one would think they could probably break out of prison, wouldn't you say?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. There was a silent suggestion behind it, and Jason knew he had to deny that suggestion.

"I couldn't, my mother and Thalia could face consequences if I do something like that" Jason mumbled, swallowing against the lump in his throat. He had entertained the idea of escape many, _many_ times, but never gone through with it. He knew he could blast the door down and run for it, but who knew what would happen to his mother and sister when the word got out?

"As far as I remember, Thalia can fend for herself" Percy said, before his eyes darkened, no longer dancing. "You've been in here awhile haven't you?"

"A year" Jason answered, finally meeting Percy's eyes. He was surprised to see his gaze held nothing but sadness.

'What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Jason asked, leaning forward, but someone grabbed his shoulder.

He followed the arm up to Frank, who's face looked grim. "Someone has dropped off a present for you" he said.

Jason didn't see what was bad about a gift, but he stood anyway.

"Jason" Percy said urgently, standing from the table, making it jump and the glass of water fall over.

The guards rushed forward and shoved him back down by the shoulders, their grips like iron. Jason held eye contact with him until he'd left the room, trying to figure out what Percy needed to tell him.

[][][]

"Now, don't be startled. Also, she _may_ try to bite you" Frank warned, searching for the right key to open the cell.

"Someone gave me a dog?" Jason asked. He supposed the gesture was nice, but he didn't really know how he could take care of a dog inside a gladiator barrack. Sometimes after particularly good matches, people would send Jason gifts, like flowers, or olive oil.

"_Not_ a dog" Frank said, shaking his head sharply once. Finally, he got the right key and unlocked the door.

Jason didn't know what to think.

Inside the unilluminated cell, sitting on a bench was a girl, her wrists and ankled bound, a gag in her mouth, looking beyond livid. She wore an ivory dress with gold fastens and a necklace made from milky white seashells. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a braid, but it was messy like she'd been throwing her head around. As soon as she saw Jason she screamed madly, thrashing and shaking her tied hands at him and kicking.

Jason turned around and shut the door, standing unblinking to face Frank.

"_A girl?_" Jason implored, tilting his head forward.

"A girl" Frank confirmed.

"Why would someone _give_ me a... a _girl?_"

"For winning the game, I suppose. Admittedly I'm surprised you didn't get one sooner"

"_What am I going to do with a girl_?" Jason demanded, pressing his back against the door as a force bumped against it. Jason could hear grunts from the other side, and came to the conclusion that the girl was throwing herself against it. The Gladiator barracks were no place for a lady, even if she was murderous.

"Well, I assume they expected you to...you know" Frank said, blushing.

"I can't do that. She's been gagged and captured, and I think she'd disembowel me first!"

"It's up to you, Jason. Although if it were _me_, I'd leave her in there" Frank said, craning his neck to watch the door jump behind Jason's back.

"I can't just leave her to die!" Jason argued over the muffled maniacal yelling of the girl inside.

Suddenly, an influx of guards ran down the passage way towards the eating quarters, weapons in hand, and Frank grabbed one's shoulder and asked what was happening.

"A prisoners started a fight in there" the guard answered.

_Percy_, Jason guessed.

All of a sudden, a door burst open down the corridor, and a wave of water gushed out, knocking some of the soldiers at the front of the assemblage off their feet.

"Styx" Jason swore.

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**Thankyou for reading! **

**i hope to be introducing more of the main 7 in the next few chapters, bc theyre all gonna be in this story, as well as some other characters like Nico &amp; Reyna + tons of others**

**Again, thankyou for taking the time to read!**


	3. II

"_Ow_"

Jason frowned as the girl pounded her fists on his back, yelling insults he could just make out through her gag.

He had told her that she could keep it off if she didn't scream, but the moment he untied it she shrieked louder than Harpies at the gates of hell_, _effectively almost bursting Jason's eardrums. He'd also told her that if she'd be peaceful and didn't try to run off he'd let her walk by herself, which, again, hadn't worked out, because Jason had to sprint after her the second she was unbound.

So now he carried her over his shoulder to his living quarters while she thumped his back and kicked his chest, trying to wiggle out of the grip he had on her waist.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" Jason kept saying, shaking his head. He picked up his pace so he was running, anxious to put her down.

When they finally reached his cell he kicked open the door with his foot and set her down gently on the bed. She glared at Jason mercilessly, her multicoloured eyes sparkling with hate. Jason flinched as the door behind him slammed shut.

"I'm not going to..." Jason said, thinking of the right word. "I'm not going to _do_ anything to you."

The girl started to scream once more, making Jason sigh heavily. He hated this situation, and cursed whoever had sent him this woman.

"I swear I won't do anything you don't want" Jason promised as she tried to break her bounds once again.

To prove his own point, he kneeled down in front of her and untied her ankles, thinking naïvely that her stillness meant she was calm. She had dark, smooth skin, soft to the touch and delicate in a way that he felt like he hadn't experienced in centuries. He was very gentle to undo the cloth around her mouth, making sure he didn't catch any hair in his fingers, and he carefully undid the ties on her wrists, standing up in front of her and smiling politely.

"There now, better?" He asked warmly.

She responded by standing up and punching him in the gut. If he was a normal man, that would have made him double over and not get up, but he wasn't normal, and only winced against it.

"_HOW DARE YOU!_" The girl snarled, punching continuously. Jason kept catching all of her flying fists with little effort, having trouble concentrating on the situation.

"How dare you think you can just _have_ me like an object for winning a game!" she roared.

Jason backed up every time she threw a hit, until now he had his back was pressed against the wall.

"I didn't think that" Jason said, turning his head away from her as she started to try and throw slaps.

"I am a person, not a trophy, you big ugly _gorgon_" she swore at him, and he frowned deeply.

"That's a bit under the belt" Jason protested, feeling rather like a punching dummy.

"You want under the belt, Roman?" She seethed, her eyes warning him she wasn't lying, a finger in the air between them.

Her braid had completely fallen off at this point, eyes blazing with a passion Jason wasn't sure why she had. One of the straps of her tunic was about to slip down, but Jason was sure if he made a move to help her pull it back up she'd punch him in the nose.

"My name is Jason" Jason said hastily, trying to make the conversation friendly. "What's yours?"

He extended his hand for her to shake. _Like acquaintances_, Jason thought, _how formal_. She looked at his hand and rolled her eyes, pushing it away.

"Why do you even care?" The girl said, finally giving up and collapsing back onto the bed. She paused before looking up at him.

"Piper" she muttered, fingering her shell necklace. "My name is Piper."

Jason nodded. "That's a nice name" he said, and she shot him a look of contempt.

"Was this to make fun of me?" She asked him, lifting the necklace up.

"I think it was to make you look more appealing" Jason said. He instantly regretted saying it, his eyes going wide. He went to correct himself, but Piper interrupted him.

"You look too young to be here" she said. "What did you do? Kill someone? Rob? Try and kidnap an innocent girl walking along the street?"

"_I'm_ not the one who captured you" Jason told Piper, pointing a finger at her.

"You're the one that's going to _keep_ me" she argued, her hands balled at her sides as she stood again.

"I only want to help you" Jason said wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You don't want to help me" Piper yelled, shaking her head. "You just want to pretend like you will. Gain my trust and then...and then _assault_ me!"

Jason recoiled, putting his hands up and stepping further away from Piper. He shook his head, suddenly miserable.

"I don't want to do that" he mumbled. "I really don't."

He slumped against the wall, his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor as Piper stood over him silently.

All he could see when he closed his eyes was Thalia, how she'd looked when that guard had tried to attack her, the pure fear on her face, the lightening she summoned. His whole life had been ruined by that man's single action and Thalia's uncontrollable fear.

_Thalia, Thalia, Thalia._ His heart ached.

"I don't want to do that. I'd never do that" Jason said, standing and staring down at Piper, who looked confused.

"You've got to trust that I want to help you" Jason said, pulling up the strap of her dress with no hesitation. "Because I alone am your only way out."

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Percy Jackson was not really the kind of man to hold a grudge.

He hadn't held a grudge when his mother had to leave him for a disgusting man in the city, because he knew she was doing it for him. He hadn't held a grudge when no one would give him work at the age of 9, because he was too thin and weak to really take on any job. He hadn't held a grudge when the captain of the ship he worked on threw him overboard, because Percy knew he could survive in the water. He hadn't even held a grudge when the guards that found him stealing food from the marketplace tossed him in jail.

Then why did he still hold a grudge on Jason Grace? After so many long years?

Percy wasn't sure. After his 'little' explosion in the eating hall, he'd been thrown into the stables for some little one-on-one time with the horses, where he'd had some time to think.

He fed the horses oats from a bucket and walked around petting their manes, spying a rogue pegasi in the back of the stables with large dark wings that the mortals must not have realised when they bought it. He made his way back there and stepped in, smiling at it. Petting horses cleared his mind, that much he knew.

He had had a farm when he was very young that his mother kept. She worked really hard on it too, and it was close enough to the ocean that Percy could go and splash around during the hot days and then come home at night and have a dinner his mother had made. It was just him and her, and it was great, and they'd had so many horses. Sometimes he'd sneak in when his mother wasn't around and pet them, just a tiny little boy surrounded by horses he swore were talking to him.

His mother had never said it outright, but Percy knew even before _the incident_ that he was the son of someone important from the way she said it. _Your father would be so proud_ or _one day, when he's not so busy with his big responsibility, he'll come and visit you._

_And visit me he did, _Percy thought bitterly.

His mother would not approve of his hate towards Jason Grace, he knew that. But it was so hard for Percy after what had happened.

Percy knew the Romans hated demigods and their superhuman powers, and that hatred drove demigods into hiding many years ago. It'd been so long since anyone had ever actually seen one in action that people starting thinking they were myths, and anyone who claimed to be one was insane and needed to be imprisoned. If anyone showed signs of using godly powers, well, Percy knew first handedly that they would be killed on the spot.

He clutched the bucket tighter and stroked the horse a little less softly, before regaining his composure and breathing deeply through his nose. Jason was trying to protect his family, Percy would have done the same, but still, it was a terrible thing to do, what he did all those years ago.

"Father, I told you, I can walk by myself! Yes, I _definitely_ can. No, I do not need a hand maiden"

Percy ducked instinctively after hearing the definitely female voice yell out.

"But the gladiators, Annabeth, they might be roaming around here" warned a nervous male voice.

Percy chanced a peak over the stall of the stable and into the courtyard. It was dusk, and he realised he'd lost track of time again. He must have been in there for hours, giving names to the horses and brushing their coats.

The courtyard was large and circular, surrounded by tall buildings and bathed in orangy golden light from the setting sun and the two people arguing were a father and daughter, that much was clear.

The father was a tall man who wore a silver crown aloft his curly blond hair, brown eyes crinkled at the edges a scruff beard decorating his jaw and upper lip. He was wearing official looking robes and seemed like an important person. Radiating an aura of respectability, he seemed like he was very crucial to society.

Then, there was the daughter. Percy nearly toppled out of the horse stall. She had the same curly blonde hair as her father but a lot more of it, and on her head rested a circlet of shining silver. Annabeth, her father had called her. She turned and Percy caught a glimpse of flashing grey eyes, like the colour of storm clouds. She wore silver bands on her biceps and bracelets on her wrists, her tanned skin making him think of honey. Percy wasn't sure he'd ever seen someone so beautiful.

"You" the official man said, and Percy realised he had been staring.

"Me?" Percy mimed, pointing at his chest.

"Yes, _you_, stable boy, escort my daughter around the grounds" he ordered.

_Stable boy, _Percy thought,_ I can work with that_.

"Of course" Percy grinned, jumping over the side of the stable and into the courtyard.

"_Father_" the girl muttered, but the man waved her off.

"Thankyou, I'll leave you to it now." He tried to embrace his daughter, but she shrugged away from him and glared.

The man walked off shaking his head and Percy strode up to the girl and offered his arm.

"I am capable of walking by myself" the girl - Annabeth - informed.

Percy smiled but lowered his arm, shrugging as he followed her.

She walked slowly, observing the buildings and tracing her fingers along the statues that lined the gravel path. The track lead you in a circle around the courtyard, lined with short green grass and white fountains. Statues of Gods and Goddesses that aided gladiators bordered the path in white marble, watching you walk along the ground with unseeing eyes.

Ares - or _Mars_, Percy wasn't always sure - glowered at him as he walked past, Bellona staring off into the sunset, and Victoria wearing laurels with her hand resting on the soldier of a gladiator standing with his foot on the throat of his rival. _Charming_.

Percy remembered when he had to learn all the names for the God's again to fit in, before realising that Roman's don't really worship Neptune (or Poseidon) all that much.

"So what brings you here?" Percy asked. He went to repeat the question when he thought Annabeth hadn't heard him, before she answered, not looking at him and rubbing some dust off a statue of Jupiter.

"It's none of your business stable boy" she said flatly, sounding bored with the conversation.

She looked at him then, narrowing her stormy eyes and scanning him up and down, scrutinizing.

"But you're not a _stable boy_, are you?" She asked, coming closer. She grabbed his arm, and looked intently at the now healing gash in his skin.

"This is from a sword. Probably imperial gold. And you have a fading black eye, like you've been punched, as well as this-" she reached up and grabbed his bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger "-a split lip, maybe from hitting the ground a bit too hard."

"Aren't you a wise girl" Percy teased. Annabeth made a _pfft_ sound and continued walking.

"I won't deny that" she said, and Percy thought he could see a little smile forming at the edges of her lips, before it turned into a frown. "My mother was a very smart woman."

Percy nodded, leaning against the rim of a fountain with one arm and brushing a wave of hair off his forehead.

"What are you doing here, Wise Girl?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm here as a prize" she divulged.

"What do you mean?" Percy asked, sitting down on the edge of the fountain. Annabeth folded her hands and sat down opposite him, expression wistful.

"I'm not married, which is absolutely _awful_, apparently. So my father thought that maybe he could make my being unwed interesting" she sighed, swirling her finger in the water.

"I'm being sold off as a prize to a gladiator" she said finally, and Percy let out a big breath.

"That's intense" he laughed, and she frowned deeper, creating crease lines on her forehead.

"Its not funny. I could end up marrying _you_"

Annabeth said it as if it was the worst thing ever, and Percy put his hand on his heart.

"No no, I'm an honest stable boy" Percy joked, standing and puffing up his chest. "Not a huge gladiator, have you seen those men? They're the size of a Minotaur and twice as fat."

Annabeth laughed, a good honest laugh, her curls shaking behind her. "What's your name, stable boy?"

"Perseus" he answered with a smile. He was starting to forget where he was. Percy became aware he wouldn't have much longer before they realised he wasn't in the stables anymore.

"Perseus? That's Greek" Annabeth noted, and then she stopped smiling. "Are you _Greek?_"

"I am, yes" Percy admitted, watching in distress as the traces of happiness slipped off her face once again.

"I have to go now" she announced, standing and lifting up her skirt, looking as though she was going to start running.

"Why? Please don't go" Percy pleaded, but she rushed past him and knocked him into the fountain with a large, wet splash.

While Percy was under the water he wondered if this was going to be his life now. Getting pushed into fountains and tossed into stables, every now and then exploding a barrel of water in a hall and fighting lions for the remainder of his days. It seemed pretty boring.

After a moment, he sat up and climbed out, shaking his hands. He hadn't gotten wet, which really wasn't all that surprising for him.

"YOU'RE _DRY_" Annabeth yelled, pointing at him.

"Oh, you're still here" Percy said absently, flicking a piece of moss off his shoulder.

"How are you still dry?" She questioned.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you" Percy warned, angered by her fear of him.

So he hadn't gotten wet? What was the big deal?

"Try me"

Her tanned skin contrasted so incredibly with her eyes, Percy thought. She radiated _smart_, giving off waves of intelligence and suddenly Percy thought '_my mother was a very smart woman'. _

The grey eyed goddess.

_Holy Hera._

"Athena" Percy said, grinning as he pointed his finger at her. He supposed this accusation could be very catastrophic if he was wrong, but he really didn't think he was.

Annabeth spluttered, obviously ruffled, and Percy knew he was right by the way she was affected.

"I've met _sons_ of Athena before" Percy said over Annabeth's confused noises. "Never daughters. Although you might be... daughter of... _Minerva, _is it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" She said angrily, but Percy was sure she knew _exactly_ what he was talking about. The evidence was ubiquitous.

"THERE HE IS" a guard shouted, suddenly running around a corner and stumbling as several other guards collided into his back.

"Time to go" Percy said, getting down on one knee and smiling at Annabeth. "It was a pleasure to meet you, wise girl."

The guards ran to where they stood and Percy didn't even struggle as they held his arms and pulled him away, leaving the daughter of Athena to watch him go.

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**Thankyou for reading!**


	4. III

**a lot of this chapter is lions ahaha**

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Lions.

Jason would be fighting _lions_.

He wouldn't care, honestly, they'd made him fight lions when he was starting out and it was a lot easier than killing people, but something had been bothering him lately.

Percy Jackson had been bothering him, lately.

Percy wasn't angry even a little bit. He didn't cause a hassle, he didn't try and fight against his guards or make a single jug of water move. He smiled at Jason whenever he saw him. He thanked his guards when they successfully chained him up.

That bothered Jason greatly. He couldn't focus on his match, even as the gates were lifting and Jason held his golden spatha loosely in his hand. He walked out into the arena with his head down, absently shielding his eyes from the blaring sun. People cheered, but his mind was a million miles away.

Piper was still in his room. Percy Jackson was a happy prisoner. He was fighting lions. What had happened to the world?

Jason turned as the first lion's cage creaked open, rusty metal clanging through the arena and sparking Jason's nerves. Electricity crackled in the palm of his hand and he forced it to go away.

The first lion to emerge was pitiful. An undernourished, sad thing with protruding ribs and a patchy hide. It roared meekly, teeth missing from its mouth and hardly a growl even coming out. Jason felt bad for the thing. Once a great beautiful beast with an incredible mane and a roar like an earthquake, now reduced to a tabby cat living on the streets. He felt like he could relate.

The second lion, however, was not any of those things. It had a powerful jaw, a full mane, and all its teeth. Jason gulped.

Dodging a halfhearted swipe from the sickly lion he decided he would go for the big one first. It required more attention then the other, so he charged at it and watched with muted horror as it ran at him at equal pace, it's muscular legs pushing it along at an incredible pace.

A lion was everything a gladiator was meant to be, powerful, large, frightening. So before Jason thrust his sword into the lion's neck, he sent it a small prayer.

gratias tibi:_ I thank you_.

Jason felt the warm blood of the lion gush onto his arms and hands from the point of his blade, but also the claws of the lion sink into his side and then rip his skin off. He must have miscalculated the length he'd kept the lion at, and he staggered back as the lion tried, still, to advance on him.

It's breathing was heavy and laboured, it's golden chest sticky with blood pouring from its neck and he knew it wasn't going to live much longer. Jason, blinded by pain, approached the lion as it collapsed and wrapped his arms around its middle. To the crowd of screaming people he was strangling it, but that was not what he was doing.

Jason listened for a second to its escalating heart, trying desperately to get more blood circulating but finding that job impossible when the it's body had already lost so much. He let some lightning snap through his arms and into his fingertips, and with a final squeeze he electrocuted the lion and put it out of its misery.

All Jason wanted to do now was collapse, his stomach demanding attention and the pain making his head feel like it was empty. His vision was red, it made him want to gag.

He limped over to the skinny lion, holding his side with one hand. It seemed like every time Jason took a step a knife stabbed him in the kidneys, and he felt the hot blood on his fingers, spilling onto his leg. He moaned and with a final burst of energy jumped away from a bite, ducked a swipe, and drove his sword through its stomach.

Jason and the lion collapsed onto the ground at the same time. Their blood mingled on the sand, creating a pool of crimson and making the crowd go wild. Red, red, red. That's all there was. All they wanted was bloodshed and that's what they got. The audience started throwing flowers as Jason tossed his head and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut so he blocked out the dazzling light from the sun completely.

He was so stupid, he'd never been hurt like this in combat before because he'd always been focused. That was all his life was. But ever since Percy Jackson had shown up Jason had been distracted and confused, his old life tugging and nagging at him. He wasn't just a gladiator fighting and surviving anymore, he was Jason Grace, who grew up hearing Greek stories and was the son of Jupiter, God of the sky. Jason Grace, who had left his family behind but protected them at the same time, Jason Grace who no longer was disconnected. All of it hurt more than the wound on his side.

_Kill me_, he thought, opening his eyes to the blinding sunlight, _just do it. I don't deserve to live._

He couldn't tell if he was delirious or not when a voice in his head screamed _no. _

Finally someone came to get him when he stopped feeling the pain. It took awhile, he wasn't going to lie. He had gone very very pale and despite the situation he thought about what his mother used to say to him and Thalia.

_Hurting doesn't have to last forever unless you let it do so._

He wondered if that was true. Could someone just let go of their pain?

Maybe it was something she said so that Jason wouldn't feel so bad about how sad she was. She'd say it and Jason would believe that really his mother had let go of the pain his father had caused.

"Jason," a soft voice said.

He looked to his right as medics ran along with him on a stretcher, and squinted his eyes. No one was there.

"Jason" the voice said again, closer to his ear this time.

"Jason I need your help" the voice was definitely female, but he knew he was confused and unfocused. There was no one speaking to him.

He slipped in and out of consciousness for what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a few minutes. Medics pressed cloths and oils to his wounds as prayers were distributed throughout the ward.

_Please let him live._

_Heal him._

_Make sure he makes it out alive._

Jason found it a bit twisted that they would pray to his father, but if they found out that it was his son they were trying to save, he would be killed. Slaughtered publicly for being insane. A monster. Wrong. A halfbreed.

Jason tried to sit up but was pushed back down onto the bed.

"_STAY DOWN_" someone yelled in his ear and he closed his eyes.

This had happened so quickly. One moment he was walking out into the arena like any other day, the next he was fighting for his life underground somewhere.

"What's going on?" Jason asked, his voice sounding strange to himself. Like he was talking underwater.

"You're dying" said a disembodied voice, before a girl stepped out of the shadows at the other end of the chamber, no older than him and striking. "But I'm going to help you, Jason Grace."

Jason leaned over to throw up, before sitting up and reaching for her. Surely she was Thantos in the form of a woman, come to take him away. He almost fell out of the bed, his blood staining the floor and the white linen he sat on. Jason was spilled everywhere around the room.

He blacked out when the girl pressed her hands to his shoulders, no one else seeming to have noticed her.

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"Well well, look who finally decide to open his eyes"

Jason's immediate thought, despite his previous events of wildly hallucinating, passing out, and being mauled by a lion, thought that statement was strange because he hadn't opened his eyes.

"I haven't opened my eyes" Jason mumbled, frowning as he felt the wound on his side. He was acutely aware of the cold feeling surrounding the warm injury.

"Yes you have" Piper said.

Jason recognised her voice. It was strange to hear her not angry.

"I can't see" Jason said. He waited and realised his eyes were open, but all he saw was black. Perhaps he'd gone blind. The thought didn't actually scare him. As he contemplated the ideas of being the first and probably _last_ blind gladiator that Rome had ever seen, his vision had started to blur back in.

Colours were smudged together and it was very dark in his cell except for a single, _very_ bright, candle.

"What's going on?" Jason asked, leaning his head back again and sighing.

"Do you want the long version or the short version?"

"Short, please"

"Okay, well, you fought a lion, got clawed, and then they rushed you into the medical ward and you passed out, lost a lot of blood then died. _Then_ you came back to life and they rushed you back to your room to wait to see if you were going to die again. I have very specific instructions from the medics to take care of you" Piper explained, dabbing a wet cloth to Jason's side.

"_What!_ I _died?_" Jason exclaimed, jumping up.

"Your heart stopped beating. Then it started again. It's a miracle" Piper said, wringing out the cloth over a pail.

Jason's thoughts went to the girl from earlier. Her dark brown hair was in braids, eyes dark blue like the twilight sky. She wore a circlet of silver and a hunting bow was slung over her shoulder.

_Diana,_ Jason thought. _Surely, it couldn't have been_. Even if somehow the Gods were watching him at that very moment, why would Diana_, _the patron of young girls - which he was certainly not - help him?

"I can't believe it" Jason said.

Piper pressed harder against his side making his bare stomach muscles and jaw clench at the same time. It hurt very much, and by the looks of the cloths Piper was putting on him and pulling off, he was still bleeding.

She looked very pretty in the low light, her hair hanging in thick waves on either side of her face. Every time the candle flickered he saw a new colour in her eyes.

"Why are you helping me?" Jason asked.

_Oh_, Piper _was_ very beautiful, he had never denied it. But she gave off an aura of _touch me and die,_ so he said nothing of her appearance to her. Jason shifted on his elbows so that their faces were level.

"Because you are my only chance of escape, Mister Grace" she glared, pressing down harder than necessary on his side.

"Ow, _no_" Jason said, gently taking her wrists and pulling them away from the sore area. She shook off his hand and scrunched up her nose. That made Jason laugh.

"Will you ever trust me?" He asked, his smile failing when she shook her head with disgust.

"_Never_"

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The catacombs under the barracks were absolutely disgusting.

They reeked of decaying flesh and sewage, as well as the strong, musky sent of lions that clung to just about everything. Percy thought maybe there might be a way out down there, but it seemed like it was just as sealed off as the rest of the place. He couldn't even remember how he'd really gotten down there.

He kept the horrible water from touching him by concentrating, but every now and then a rat would startle him and he'd lose his focus. His senses were on high-alert down here, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck standing up and tingling. Percy felt the feeling he got when was forced to jump off the side of the pirate boat. A foul, nervous feeling.

He followed the water flow, holding his nose and grimacing at how strong the smell of lion was becoming. It overpowered all the other odours, which was saying something, because every scent down in the catacombs was very strong.

Finally, Percy squeezed through a tiny gap in the stone walls, taking a deep breath and pushing into the space on the other side. He immediately jumped back, gagging on the air.

It opened up onto a large room with high ceilings, every inch of the walls mosaicked with images of rolling fields, blue skies, and tall jagged mountains that Percy thought could be Sparta, or Nemea, in Greece. The mosaics would have been beautiful if it weren't for the splattered blood and grime on them.

The bodies of lions and men alike lay in the piles in the thigh deep water, some face down and rotting. Skeletons also littered the place, skulls smiling at Percy eerily. He recoiled and pressed his back to the crack he came in through. The only light came from under the water, casting strange reflections on the ceiling. _What was this? _

"_I have killed many..._" a voice echoed around the chamber, deep, low, and gravelly.

The sensation of being startled tingled through Percy's skin and he became aware of his lack of weaponry, not expecting to face anyone down under the barracks. He had promised himself he wouldn't use the sword from his father, but it might be necessary down here.

"_My claws are like swords, no armour can withstand them_" the voice said, moving around the room and chilling Percy down to the bone.

"_My hide is impenetrable. Not even you can stop me, son of Poseidon. That's right - I know who you are, I can smell the ocean on you down in this filth from a mile away_"

Finally the thing behind the voice decided to show itself, although now Percy saw it, he wished it had stayed just a voice.

A lion, eight times bigger than it should have been, erupted from a pile of bones and carcasses, its mane braided with bones of dead men and its muzzle clumpy with dried blood.

"I am the Nemean Lion, you poor fool, and you are about to die"

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**THANKS FOR READING **


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